


The Joke was on Me

by BigJellyMonster (orphan_account)



Series: Harry Potter Prompts [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry is Harley Quinn, M/M, Suicide Squad AU, Tom Riddle is the Joker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8517154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/BigJellyMonster
Summary: Harry think's his love is dead as he sits in his prison cell drinking his espressos, and reading his romance novels.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by Anon: A Suicide Squad and Harry Potter crossover maybe? It's been stuck in my head that Harry could be Harley Quinn and Tom the Joker

His hair was finally back to the way he wanted it; bleached blond with pink and blue tips. The prison uniform he wore was bran new, and smelled like it came straight off out of the packaging. 

He sipped his delicate cup filled with his espresso and placed it gently back down on the saucer beside him. It made a clinking noise that brought a small smile to his face. 

The position he was sitting in gave him a crick in his neck and after rolling his head around to stretch it out, Harry returned to reading his book. It, of course, was a romance novel that the guards have given to him. From what he was told, there were several more waiting for him when he was done. 

It was tempting to rush through it, just to be able to get the next book in his hands, but he wanted to enjoy them. He wanted to read and reread every touch, every kiss, every sentence of “I love you” because deep down in his heart, he knew he would never hear those words again.

Every time  _he_  would say those words to him, it was like he had gone straight to heaven. There was nothing more that he loved than getting his puddin’s attention, especially when it was to tell him how much he loved him. 

Usually, he told him when one of them just did something particularly nasty. Receiving a severed hand as a birthday present with a diamond bracelet on it, was one of his best memories. “I love you, darling,” He had said when Harry opened up the golden wrapped box.

He clutched the book tighter in his hands and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about anything unpleasant right now. What mattered is that he had an espresso at his side, he wasn’t wearing anything that smelled for once, and he had a book to lose himself in. 

Thinking about _him_  made him want to scream and _play_ with the guards some more. But, that would be counter productive to his current situation. The second he even threatened someone, they would take all of his new toys away, and he didn’t want that.

Harry went to take another sip from his drink, but to his disappointment, found that it was empty. Sighing with disappointment, he got up from his hard prison issued bed, and walked over to his shiny new espresso machine. 

With a simple push of a button, the machine came to life and started making him another cup. He knew he really shouldn’t drink so many, but it would give him an excuse to leave the cell for just a moment if only to go to the bathroom. 

Harry hummed a tune while he waited of a song he heard of once about jokes and the whole world laughing, when suddenly the wall blew open making dust and debris fly in every direction. 

He ducked under the table to protect himself, but he wasn’t afraid. Being around _him_  for so long, little things like a wall exploding was something he had seen every day. It would take a lot more than that to make him afraid. Even more than the men dressed up as police men, gunning down the guards. 

Harry came out from under the table and stood up tall and proud. He was not going to cower under a table in front of them. His love would not have ever wanted him to show fear in the face of an enemy.

When all the guards were dead, one man came to the bars of his cage and began slicing it open with ease with a circular saw. The sparks that flew had Harry backing up into a corner, but still he stared them down.

The bars fell to the ground and another man stepped through, obviously the leader of the group.

Harry was about to demand what the hell their problem was, he _was_  in the middle of reading a book after all and it was rude to interrupt him, when he noticed a word plastered on the man’s bullet proof vest. 

The other men all had the standard word police written on theirs, but this one had a word that made him hold his tongue. Riddle. 

Hope filled his heart but he didn’t feel true happiness until the man took off his helmet.

It was _him_. He wasn’t dead. He was really, truly here and he had come to rescue him from his horrid fate of romance novels and espressos. 

“Puddin!” He shouted and jumped in to his arms. 

Their kiss was anything but chaste. Harry clung to him just like anyone would seeing a lover come back from the dead. 

“Let’s go home,” Riddle told him in his deep voice, and carried him out through the hole in the wall. The espresso machine made a loud dinging noise after they left, and the empty cup was filled with the last of the espresso. Only the dead bodies of the guards were around to notice it’s bitter sent. 

**Author's Note:**

> Want to submit a prompt? Find me on tumblr!  
> Bigjellymonster.tumblr.com

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Żart był o mnie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469337) by [cole1903](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cole1903/pseuds/cole1903)




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